Page 22 of Beachcomber Enemy

“That tracks with my theory. Whitey got Shana’s cell number from Sassy.” He didn’t have to tell this group that Whitey may have gotten plenty of other intel from Sassy.

Cap asked, “Would she have told him about the Lucky Parrot and this basement?”

Dane shook his head. “She didn’t know about the basement, but she might have told him about the Lucky Parrot. No one goes upstairs.” Dane added, “Except Joe. Nash’ll know who you are by now, Ronnie. Sassy’s house is littered with photos of you two.”

Ronnie gulped, but the kid’s eyes didn’t flicker and his lips were unnaturally flat.

“Whitey took Sassy for intel as much as for leverage,” Dane said. “And I have no doubt he’s using either her pie shop or her house as his base of operations.”

“Sassy might have told Nash about her shop basement where we’ve met before,” Cap said, “If this nut job is still looking for you, if he doesn’t believe you’re dead, then he’d be looking there and upstairs in the Lucky Parrot.”

“And he’d be watching state police headquarters and you,” Dane said to Cap.

“But there’s only one of him,” Ronnie said, “and he doesn’t know I’m back from West Point because I didn’t tell Sassy I was coming, so I’ll be the one to watch the watcher.”

Dane observed the new maturity in Ronnie, the new hardening. His careless attitude had almost disappeared, his superficial thinking gone and replaced by pauses before he spoke, more confidence in his words.

“Except he has a partner, kid. But you’re not alone in this. Here’s my plan. Tonight, we’ll use some of Joe’s fancy-ass nighttime surveillance equipment and go to the pie shop. We need to see if he’s there or if he’s been there.”

Cap said, “Why the pie shop? What about her house?”

“You said you checked it out and all was quiet, right?”

Cap nodded.

“We all go but Cap. That means we’re light one person.” Dane thought for only a split second. “I’ll call Vendi.”

Cap nodded his approval. Dane checked the time. It was 4:00 a.m. He slipped his burner phone from his pocket and punched in Vendi’s number. It was on the not-so-short list of numbers he had memorized.

When Vendi answered on the first ring, Dane’s short hairs stood up.

“What are you doing up, Vendi? I need your assistance. How fast can you get to the back door of the Lucky Parrot?” Dane held his breath.

“I have a quick errand to run, but I should be able to get there by 0330.”

“An errand? What kind of errand do you have at this hour?”

“None of your damn business.”

The alertness turned to dread and ran a frozen fist through Dane. This had to do with Shana. And he knew how.

Shana had found out Dane left her. Either she’d been awake the whole time or she’d woken up and realized he was gone. He’d been foolish to think he could sneak out on her and get much lead time. The damn woman had let him think he could because she had an ace up her sleeve—Vendi. Of all the people she could call, Dane hadn’t accounted for the one with the most juice and means to get her to Martha’s Vineyard. Damn Vendi. He had a helo at his disposal. A very fast one. And even if he wouldn’t use the USCG helicopter or use any USCG resources to save Dane’s sorry ass, Vendi most certainly would do it for Shana. And she sure as hell knew it.

“Damn.” He muttered a long string of expletives under his breath as the others looked at him.

Cap squinted, knowing it had to do with Shana.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there by 4:45,” Vendi said.

“If you’re not, we go without you.” Dane heaved a breath and added, “And tell Shana that means her too.” He clicked off the phone and threw it down on the table as Ronnie stared at him with his mouth open.

Joe’s eyebrows were raised to his hairline and Cap scowled with more ferocity than usual.

Dane addressed Cap, “You’ll be happy to know that Shana’s on her way. She’ll be here for our visit to the pie shop.” His clipped out his words, holding in his panic and trying to cement his resolve to protect her rather than tie her up and lock her in a closet. All for her own good, of course.

He’d protected her on dangerous missions in the past, hadn’t he? She was damned good, herself, wasn’t she? She’d had his back more than once, so he very well could make sure he had hers tonight.

But no matter how much pep talking he gave himself, he knew that what really bothered him were the odds. If he and Shana had nine lives, it felt like they were going into this mission with all nine of those lives spent.